Souls Of Mischief - 93 'Til Infinity (20th Anniversary Edition)

Jive/Get On Down: 1993/2014

Damn, son, this ‘Deluxe Edition’ of Souls Of Mischief's 93 'Til Infinity ain't kidding about its deluxivenss. Packaged in a spiffy booklet, bundled with two CDs, including exhaustive liner notes and a lengthy essay detailing not only the making of this album, but nearly all the Hieroglyphics history to boot, it’s got everything covered. Then they went an extra mile by having a gatefold play a portion of the titular cut like a tinny music card. I've never seen one of those for a CD. Why hasn't Wu-Tang Clan's Enter The 36 Chambers ever gotten similar anniversary treatment? It was released the same year as 93 'Til Infinity, and that was a far bigger album than this one.

Talk to any discerning hip-hop head though, and they’ll point to this Oakland crew as equally worthy of critical praise. Can't say it's a fair comparison, considering the radically different career paths taken since their debuts - Wu-Tang became commercial juggernauts, while Souls Of Mischief (and the rest of Hieroglyphics) floundered in the underground as the '90s played out. Okay, 'floundered' is harsh, but when you drop an album as hot as 93 'Til Infinity, a long prosperous career should have been in the bag. Still, they maintained that all-important 'respect' thing hip-hop acts of all walks of the streets crave.

If you don’t know, Souls Of Mischief are A-Plus, Phesto, Opio, and Tajai of Hieroglyphics, the West Coast hip-hop crew that includes Del Tha Funkee Homosapien (I’ve mentioned him once or thrice). They appeared in namedrops on Del’s debut, and thanks to having Ice Cube’s blessing, the extended Hiero members got their chance to shine here - not a second’s wasted on their part. Whether taking lesser MCs to task in battle raps (Let ‘Em Know, That’s When Ya Lost, Never No More, Limitations, Make Your Mind Up), delivering cautionary street tales (Anything Can Happen, What A Way To Go Out ...dear God, this one’s nasty!), or getting a little ‘conscious’ about their future (Tell Me Who Profits, the titular cut), this album’s filled with insanely dense and vivid lyricism. And they’re not bashful in showing off their spittin’ swagger either, mixing in multi-syllable words with razor-sharp punch lines. Gander at this bit from Opio: “Eruptions, and rusting, when I'm thrusting, cuts men; Into microscopic particles, molecules, atoms; Attack 'em, hack 'em, never slow, never slack; I'm invincible...” Hell, I could post the whole verse, but self-limiting word-count forbids.

Then there’s all the ace beats, raiding plenty jazzy loops and samples that’d have DJ Premier turning his head, yet filtered into a stoned-out West Coast vibe. Honestly, it’s almost textbook ‘underground hip-hop’ production, but then Hieroglyphics helped popularize the sound in the first place.

CD2 has remixes and instrumentals, which only hardcore fans would care about. I’d stick with the original version of 93 ‘Til Infinity if you’re interested in taking the plunge, which I fully encourage. You’ll definitely wonder why you slept on this album so long after. *cough*

Omnimotion - Omnimotion

Waveform Records: 2002

The album that got me checking out Waveform Records again, for what that’s worth. It'd been a long absence by yours truly though, figuring the label had faded off forever. Then I saw Omnimotion sitting on the shelf, recognizing the distinctive Waveform logo on the jewel case spine. I had no idea who Omnimotion was, but the cover was intriguing, a widescreen picture of some long abandoned railway, buried beneath the dusty wastelands of a future apocalypse. Why yes I had been reading Stephen King's Dark Tower series at the time. Is it worth reading past the third book?

Anyhow, to say this album blew my mind is... not accurate, now that I think about it. There aren’t any big melodic moments or instantly earwormy hooks, few fresh synth sounds or clever sampling techniques; yet Omnimotion remains among one of the most captivating LPs I’ve ever listened to. It’s why I dread reviewing it, even skipping it when it popped up for one of my TranceCritic Random Reviews long ago - had no faith in my writing ability to justify my praises, you see. Hell, I still don’t know how to write about it, Omnimotion defying many genre conventions you'd expect of downtempo or chill-out music. It's got touches of dub, world beat, ambient, and smatterings of Omnimotion's (one Stephan Lundaahl) classically trained background thrown in for good measure, that comes off both totally familiar and utterly unique. What's remarkable about all this is how subdued the atmosphere is, like a meditative calm surrounds the generally sparse and desolate soundscapes our fine Swedish producer's created.

The best I can describe this album is by the feelings it imparts. Imagine your absolute worst Sketchy Sunday morning. You know the sort. The night out before (either Friday or Saturday) had started fine and fun, but something set you off on a bleak mood, and by the time you got home, you were feeling mighty low. It's not depression, but you can't quite escape this fog of being. When you wake up (and you can never go back to sleep), everything seems faded and grey. Yet, despite all this, a sense of peace permeates your soul, the gentle music of life easing you out of melancholy. It's not much to hear – quiet raindrops outside your window, mild rustle of a breeze through leaves, a whisper of a neighbour's wind chimes, the chant of a wise ancient culture, recollection of a nurturing mother's lullaby – but it's there, and enough to feel at peace with yourself. Existing isn’t so terrible after all.

Yeah, sorry about this ‘review’. I know its annoying reading interpretations of music when all you’re after is facts, opinions, and critiques. Like I said, I’ve got nothing, pathetically failing you in this endeavour, my friends. You’ll have to hear Omnimotion for yourself and form your own thoughts on the music. Maybe you’ll come to the same conclusions as I have, left in speechless tranquility.

Neil Young - Old Ways

Geffen Records: 1985/2000

Old Ways is regarded as one of Neil Young’s all-time worst albums. Don’t worry though, he’d probably admit it as such, the music within as much a protest album as it is a collection of throwback country jangles. David Geffen, growing annoyed by Young’s casual disregard for making chart-friendly music anymore, filed an actual lawsuit against him for not making music “representative of Neil Young”. Um, Mr. Geffen, have you heard his discography? Even before signing to your label, he’d been musically all over the place (rock, folk, blues, punk, art-house film). True, Trans and Everybody’s Rocking were new roads taken, but what else was he gonna’ do in the ‘80s? Big band jazz?

Anyhow, while faced with this lawsuit, ol’ Shakey reunited with his Nashville buddies, recorded some country-as-fuck jams intended for his new album, and if Geffen whined about it, he’d go so far as to make this his permanent new sound, essentially voiding the lawsuit. Man, that’s fighting dirty. What about your fans, Neil? All those who loved the Crazy Horse material? Or the heartfelt folk ditties? The three people fascinated by the synth-pop exploration? Forget it, this is about principle, and standing up against big corporate bullies who believe money and lawyers can get them anything they want. Taken with that context, Old Ways just might secretly be Neil Young’s most awesome album ever!

(note: I bought this album before I knew of its history; any of Young’s story, if I’m honest. I’d just gotten into his music, and figured everything would sound like either Ragged Glory or Harvest Moon. Definitely a crash course in discovering his erratic muse, this.)

But nay, this album’s about as country as the old West could twang. Opener The Wayward Wind even features a full orchestra, sounding like it belongs as in the opening credits to a Clint Eastwood movie where he talks to tree. Following that is Get Back To The Country, as silly a hoe-down jam as you’ll ever hear, including a Juice Harp! It’s my favorite ‘bad’ Neil Young song. Other songs like Misfits and Bound For Glory sound like they were intended as “everyday people” folk ditties, repurposed as western tunes here. The rest are pretty generic country tunes – does anyone really care if there are any more real cowboys?

Still, even if Old Ways was executed as a backhand against Geffen, Young seldom half-fasts his creative whims, fully embracing this ‘persona’ of rugged farmer and cowboy of the land. He even roped in country mainstays Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson on harmony duties (to say nothing of the manure-ton of Nashville session musicians, including a few Stray Gator alums), with live shows that were a hootin’ good ol’ time if you were into that sort of thing. I honestly can’t give this album much of a recommendation though, as it’s incredibly genre-specific and the odds of anyone reading this on an electronic music blog being into country are zilch to none. Get out of here, Contrarian Sykonee.

Vitalic - OK Cowboy

[PIAS] Recordings: 2005

Electronic music was desperate for the Next Big Thing to manifest itself during the mid-‘00s and, thanks to the immense buzz behind his debut Poney EP, Vitalic was counted upon to deliver said all-time classic album that would define the decade. Instead, four years after, he released OK Cowboy, a solid LP with lots of fun music, perhaps one of the strongest albums to emerge from the dire year of 2005. However, because it leaned so heavily on Poney EP, it wasn't the classic folks expected, and considered a letdown. Oh well, back to propping up Mylo as EDM’s generational talent.

Now, how to follow that paragraph? Almost everything else I say about OK Cowboy from here on out will come off as hyperbolic gushing. Yes, I know this isn’t a perfect album, but as far as I’m concerned, it does everything it needs to smashingly well. You’ve got the old hits that made Mr. Arbez-Nicolas the talk of the underground, you got some new stuff that’s equally on par, you got ‘filler’ tracks putting several other electro-sleaze techno producers before and since to shame, and you have chill, artistic indulgences that not only prove ol’ Pascal’s far from a one-trick Poney EP, but help break up any album monotony in the process. What else can he do to make OK Cowboy more awesome? Well, maybe including You Prefer Cocaine somewhere, but three out of four Poney EP tracks probably was stretching things a little.

It’s nigh impossible to discuss this album without talking about what made ol’ Pascal’s first single such a revelation at the time. While DJ Hell’s International Deejay Gigolo print was already finding sexy new ways of combining EBM intensity with techno functionality, Vitalic added unabashed laser-kissed anthemage to the mix. The way Poney, Pt. 1’s synths and La Rock 01’s acid unceasingly build and build over pummelling rhythms were visceral reminders of techno’s raw potential energy (an attribute somehow forgotten by techno’s old guard of the time). Throw in bizarre, discordant vocals as though imagined in a David Lynch fever dream, and even the relatively subdued Poney, Pt. 2 stands out as a highlight among classics.

The other tracks, then. Could they hope to match those tunes? My Friend Dario says, “Oh Hell yeah!” with guitar riffage as infectious as any of hair metal’s best. Plus, one watch of the video, and you’ll forever be air guitaring along should you hear it play out. No Fun’s more of a typical electro-house take on the same idea, while Newman goes straight for the headbang thrash of the sound (it’s like Daft Punk’s Rock ‘N Roll, but great!). The hidden gem among all these is Repair Machines, a surprise electro-body workout that never got its due.

About the only thing that kept OK Cowboy from earning proper classic album status was a killer single near the end, but the final run of tunes are worth sticking out for. Marching drums to take us out, Vitalic? You so crazy!

Space Manoeuvres - Oid

Lost Language: 2005

John Graham probably never intended his Space Manoeuvres side-project to go anywhere, the alias likely only created as a means to release Stage One as a one-off. It was years before any significant follow-up with this guise appeared, and by then most of the hype for another Space Manoeuvres tune had faded - heck, when he released Part 3 in 2004, he piggy-backed it on Quivver. So when a full album of Space Manoeuvres material did appear, it caught most by surprise. Well, if you had any investment in the progressive scene anyway.

Maybe Lost Language convinced Graham to give Space Manoeuvres the proper LP treatment, or he’d simply produced enough back-catalogue with the alias to warrant a release such as Oid. The latter’s most likely the answer, as this album’s little more than a gathering of tracks old and new. At least it gave Lost Language an excuse to re-release Stage One again, since it’d been a whopping seven years since that tune had first come out. Oh 2005, how many trance anthems did you recycle?

Whatever, I’m always game hearing Stage One again. The ridiculously infectious synth stabs, lovely sonic depth justifying the space handle Graham aimed for, classy progressive trance rhythms, and those dialog samples! Tell me your spine doesn’t tingle at the mere mention of “Any crew?” “Negative.” It doesn’t? Oh, you haven’t heard Stage One yet. Come back after you have.

By the time Graham got around to producing most of these Space Manoouuooveeerees tracks, late ‘90s progressive trance was already out of fashion, the simpler Coldharbour stylee the new hotness. Thus Part Three and Quadrant Four would fit snugly in a Markus Schulz set of the time, but with a groovier space aesthetic. While not as memorable as Stage One (and let’s be honest: nothing else on Oid is), they’re solid offerings for the sound. Oh, and Zone Two was produced specifically for Oid, so don’t go thinking the track titles are a direct chronological record of Space Manoeuvres tracks – though Zone Two does have some similarities with his 2001 dark prog single Pluto Disko.

At the end of Oid, Graham indulges himself a little outside the traditional prog template. While Pentexplorer goes on the downbeat (it’s space-hop! ...or not), Division Six has ol’ John posing the question, “Hey, remember progressive breaks?” Why yes, yes I do. They were awesome. So is Division Six for that matter. Not so awesome is The Seventh Planet though, or rather Stage One (Leama & Moor Mix). I can hear they were going for a blissy chill-out vibe, but compared to similar material Ultimae was kicking out at the time, this is cheesy pap. Blegh.

Forgetting that last track, Oid’s a fine enough album of spacey prog, though don’t go in expecting Stage One over and over. That may disappoint some, but considering the odds of a Space Manoeuvres LP coming to light were long anyway, I can’t complain with the results.

Boys Noize - Oi Oi Oi (Original TC Review)

Boysnoize Records: 2007

(2014 Update:
Who'd have thought after the great 'maximal' techno wave of 2007 crested and passed, it'd be Boys Noize still standing tall half a decade later? Justice, Digitalism, the whole Ed Banger crew - all faded and, while not gone, seldom discussed anymore. Meanwhile, some German who seemingly jumped on the bandwagon kept going and found a comfortable role within the burgeoning EDM festival scene. I suspect it's due to Ridha's canny adaptability as a DJ, whereas the others were more producers-first by comparison. Either that, or being buddies with Tiga sure does pay off in this industry.

Also remarkable is how the good parts of Oi Oi Oi hold up. You'd think they'd be totally dated by now, but Boys Noize somehow tapped into a timeless bit of dance music excess, like AC/DC at their cock-rockiest best. Even the drabber points of the album sound fresh now that we're not constantly bombarded by tracks of this sort. The Battery's still dogshit, though.)


IN BRIEF: Proper L.E.F.

Mr. Ridha’s been a busy boy in recent years. After seemingly ready to coast along on an electro-house euro-trashy blend as Kid Alex - forever earning royalties from Fame and Young + Beautiful - he goes and realigns his focus more on the Boys Noize alter-ego, as it has more in common with the kind of material that has Justice the talk of the town. Way to go and jump on the bandwagon, Mr. Ridha!

Heh, actually, that’s not accurate but it does seem the ‘maximal’ push is in full-on attack mode now, with singles and albums from several Europeans ready to rescue techno from the navel-gazing ‘plink-plonk’ monotony of minimal. Berliner Alex Ridha is the latest to offer his take on the sound, and he doesn’t hide his influences much. In a nutshell, take one cup of Daft Punk’s uncanny knack for finding a catchy loop and doing next to nothing with it, take another cup of the siren-like squall of 808 State’s Cübik, sprinkle in a little unpredictable glitchy spice, and you’ve got the bulk of Oi Oi Oi.

And Boys Noize is indeed noisy. Having gone to the Hard School Of Spinal Tap Rock, every big riff he comes up with is pushed to the threshold of volume; those little red lights on your monitors will be earning their keep when tracks like & Down, Superfresh, and Oh! blast forth. It makes for quite the drunken rowdy sound, which is perfect sense with a few beers in your body and the testosterone is flooding your system. When Ferry Corsten was blathering on about his Loud Electronic Ferocious direction [in 2006], Mr. Ridha’s material is probably what everyone was expecting. But is it music? Er... not as much.

For sure, there are some blinders on this album. Oh! is like capturing the perfect storm of dance music excess: rhythms that pound, incredibly infectious robo-vocals, and reckless distorted riffs that Ridha can barely contain from destroying the speakers. Opener & Down captures this feeling too, although doesn’t fire with quite the same intensity.

And sadly, & Down’s execution is where a number of these cuts lie: an unfortunate gray area of exuberant but unfulfilled potential. There’s only so many times you can hear a short loop play over and over and over before you ache for something more done with it. Even Daft Punk, whom practically wrote the book on this technique, don’t get away with it all the time (and do more than they should in my opinion, but that’s another rant for another time). Of course, these work great in a club environment, where one’s attention span doesn’t last much longer than ninety seconds, yet the fact remains it leaves something to be desired on the musical front. Arcade Robot, Shine Shine, and Lava Lava all hint at something special in their opening minutes but fail to deliver in the end, continuously running round and round in the same sonic circle (although Shine Shine does come away the better for adding an additional loop along the way). By the time Don’t Believe The Hype rolls along - probably one of the best tunes to be had on Oi Oi Oi - Boys Noize’s whole distorto-filtered loop sound has gone from ingenious technique to gimmicky shtick.

Ridha does inject some variety into the proceedings, producing a few tracks that dabble away from the ‘maximal’ sound. However, with the exception of Let’s Buy Happiness - a more intuitively melodic track than the others - most of these are little more than passable electro diversions. Again, they suffer from the same problem as the other tunes, in that not enough is done with them, going through the motions as far as this sound is concerned and coming off as mere album filler. Superfresh attempts to blend a few ideas together but makes use of a horrid chunky nu-electro fart bass noise that is ridiculously over-the-top and completely lacking in finesse ...which is probably the point, but still doesn’t make it any good.

And then there are the batteries. Wu-Tang sounds like a lame Tone Loc instrumental, yet is a masterpiece compared to the disaster that is The Battery. Take one monotone fart bass sound and loop it over a bare-bones breakbeat for five minutes; throw in the odd hi-hat fill, and you have one of the most idiotically awful cuts I’ve heard all year.

Still, perhaps these are just unfortunate stumbles. The Berliner is fully capable of coming up with the goods, as is evident with his excellent remix of Feist’s My Moon My Man (included here as a bonus). Listening to it in the closing moments, thoughts of ‘what could of been’ only strengthen as you realize Oi Oi Oi would have been much more had Ridha not settled on the simplest of dance music arrangements.

In the end, the Boys Noize debut is a mixed bag. Yes, the highlights are awesome but the album as a whole comes up short in the musical department, and no amount of cranking your amps to eleven will ever hide that fact.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved

P.M. Dawn - Of The Heart, Of The Soul And Of The Cross: The Utopian Experience

Gee Street: 1991

Another CD that didn't make much sense in Teenage Sykonee's music collection. I kinda' remember the reason for getting it though, P.M. Dawn's Set Adrift On Memory Bliss being one of my first make-out tunes. I think I mentioned in passing to an aunt I'd be interested in their album, and behold come Christmas, there's P.M. Dawn's (nearly three year old by that point) debut LP under the tree. Thanks, I guess.

As for P.M. Dawn, they had an intriguing run for most of the '90s, in that they found a 'gimmick' that should have fallen flat on its face: Religious Rap. Not that themes of religious spirituality and praises of God/Allah/Jah/etc. haven't been common in hip-hop, but typically as an aside to whatever an act's main focus is. And even if said rapper does make it a focus, it's often in a bellicose manner, that Judgement Day affects everyone, so you'd best have accounted for all your sins in this life, lest the Almighty strike thee down when your body's six feet deep.

P.M. Dawn said, “Nah, we can all be blessed and blissed, right?” After all, those soul records DJs loved sampling were filled with benign spirituality, so wearing their non-confrontational hearts on sleeves went brothers Prince Be and DJ Minute Mix, becoming one of conscious rap’s earliest successes in the process. Unfortunately, due to their unaggressive approach to the craft, they also turned into a mild joke, regarded as the only hip-hop act white people felt comfortable listening to (that wasn’t Will Smith). An unfair assessment, though it’s hardly a surprise their album sales steadily dwindled as gangsta rap rose and dominated within the general hip-hop discourse.

Having such a huge hit in Set Adrift On Memory Bliss probably didn’t help either, follow-up singles unable to capture the charm of that sample of Spandau Ballet’s True coupled with smooth, vibey lyrics and solid R&B beats. The bulk of *deep breath* Of The Heart, Of The Soul And Of The Cross: The Utopian Experience follows the same general vibe as that tune, though with more of an upbeat hip-hop bent. The few tunes that do break mould are either closer in tone to rap music you’d expect of the early ‘90s (Comatose is far funkier with Prince Be applying Serious Conscious Lyrics; Shake’s aimed squarely for the club, with Todd Terry producing no less), while others go off the deep with the spirituality (The Beautiful is practically a beatnik ambient-funk jam session).

If this all sounds rather lame, well... sucks to be you. I won’t deny P.M. Dawn’s a hard sell in this day in hip-hop age, even for those curious about Golden Age records. Both lyrically and music-wise, there’s little here that’ll surprise even a casual participant of the scene. Yet The Utopian Experience is remarkably affable, soul music that leaves a pleasant glow within without being cloying or schmaltzy about it. Can’t say that about much other ‘pop rap’, now can we?

The Human League - Octopus

EastWest: 1995

Seriously now, how many of you even knew The Human League had an album out in the mid-'90s? Maybe if you were in the UK at the time, you heard some buzz (it placed Top 10 on their charts), but seeing as it's their homeland, that's not much of a surprise. The rest of the world sure didn't give much hoot about Octopus though – Hell, wouldn't surprise me if most figured Phil Oakey's group ceased to be before the '80s even ended. Is that any way to treat one of new wave's most innovative acts? Sure, their blatant turn to chart-topping synth-pop may have soured those praising the original line-up (re: before the two chicks), but still.

The tale of The Human League will make for a wonderful VH1 special, following the classic rise-fall-return-respect story that channel loves churning music documentaries over. While everyone knows of their peak years (you’ve heard Don’t You Want Me Baby, guaranteed), the group fell on dire times not long after. Label problems, studio problems, and irrelevancy problems all plagued them, finally bottoming out at the turn of the ‘90s with Romantic?, an album that did so poorly that Virgin cancelled their long-term deal with them. Damn, that’s cold. It’s like Virgin flat-out confirming what the pop world was chortling: if you sound like “The ‘80s”, you have no place in the hot NOWness of “The ‘90s”.

Then “The ‘80s” became fashionable again, and The Human League saw their career rebound and appreciated, having persevered through the dark times when most would have hung things up. And that was long after having a gold-selling album like Octopus in the middle of the decade that forgot them! Hey, it’s like I said: did you even know this album existed?

For that matter, what’s even on Octopus? Synth-pop, as only The Human League does it. Guess you gotta’ hand it to Oakey for sticking with what he knows. There are some undeniably upbeat tunes here that’ll worm their way into your earholes, each with production that sounds crisp for the times without betraying the vintage analog quality the League made their mark with. These Are The Days is a fun, spacey little jaunt; One Man In My Heart, though riding Ace Of Base’s success, is charming; Cruel Young Lover makes use of breaks and electro sound effects, not to mention clever chord sequences on Oakey’s part; electro-space pop House Full Of Nothing is triumphant, defiant, and undoubtedly a little autobiographical; and instrumental John Cleese, Is He Funny? sounds like a stab at progressive house, though a tad dated by ’95 standards.

That all said, if you’re the sort who figure The Human League begins and ends with Dare, Octopus won’t interest you much. For that matter, I can’t say fans of the pre-Dare era would spring for this either. This album’s still as synth-poppy as the genre gets, but if you’re fine with a little more of the stuff in your life, Octopus will satisfy.

Type O Negative - October Rust

Attic: 1996

Though I was a teenage ‘technoboy’ through and through (with a smidge of the hip-hop), somehow Type O Negative’s October Rust found its way into my early CD collection. Was it peer pressure from metal associates? A chance at impressing the sexy goth chick in Drama class? Raging hormones after seeing the video for My Girlfriend’s Girlfriend? Nah, none of the above. As is so often the case with teenage boys of the mid-‘90s, it all comes back to Mortal Kombat. Type O Negative was one of the featured metal bands on the movie’s soundtrack (despite the song not even being in the flick), one of the cooler offerings of the genre I found there. Then, while working a music shop, I noticed October Rust had come out, throwing it on out of curiosity. And wow, this is some neat sounding metal. Atmospheric, catchy, varied – all things I sought in music. Sure, I’ll get this for myself, and hey, maybe some of the perks mentioned above would play out (they didn’t).

Type O Negative had some crossover success in the ‘90s, a decade where they only could have done so. While goth culture’s existed before and since, a romanticism with paganism and Wiccan religion had its closest brush with mainstream popularity at the time (thanks, The Craft!), and with dreary themes and Peter Steele’s gravelly drawl, Type O filled the role remarkably well. Hell, even the title of this album, October Rust, instantly brings to mind forests littered with red and brown leaves in bitter, cold autumn evenings. Beyond that, you have song titles like Be My Druidess, In Praise Of Bacchus (not a pagan god, but connected to ritualized hedonism just the same), Wolf Moon, and Haunted. Ooo, creepy stuff.

While I don’t buy into these themes much more than a passing indulgence, I definitely can get behind Type O’s music making. Wolf Moon features a simply awesome, spine-chilling build and explosive riff, greatly enhanced by Josh Silver’s backing keyboards – makes me want to strip naked and run through the woods under a full moon with my own ‘druidess’. Elsewhere, Red Water (Christmas Mourning) has to be one of the bleakest holiday jaunts around, a sludgy dirge with great droney guitar distortion and haunting synth work.

The band wasn’t all doom and gloom though, quite willing to show a fun side as well. The aforementioned My Girlfriend’s Girlfriend harkens back to good ol’ ‘60s psychedelic boogie, including a keyboard refrain that’d have Ray Manzarek bobbin’ his head. Along the same vibe, they cover Neil Young’s Cinnamon Girl, because of course these guys would be influenced by ol’ Rustie. Following that is one of their daftest tunes ever, The Glorious Liberation Of The People's Technocratic Republic Of Vinnland By The Combined Forces Of The United Territories Of Europa, an interlude sounding like a metal victory parade of Prussian forces in the modern era, complete with airplanes, tanks, crowds, and whatever else Pink Floyd might have included in The Wall. Glorious indeed.

Joel Mull - The Observer

Harthouse Mannheim: 2007

As always, it's stupid having expectations of an artist I barely heard much prior music of, yet was I ever disappointed in Joel Mull's The Observer when I got it. Not just let down by the album itself, but the process of buying new electronic music in general. It seemed, for the first time ever, I could no longer trust what I found on store shelves in delivering unexpected awesomeness, every CD potentially hiding electro-sleaze nonsense, crummy trance bollocks, or minimal-wank plonk, no matter who the artist involved was. So disillusioned I’d become that I practically gave up on 'blind purchases' for new CDs altogether, only buying sure things from artists I trusted. Well, in the local shops at least. Online buying was a whole other matter.

Goodness, Mr. Mull's sophomore LP must be dire indeed to ruin all hope I had in take-chance music collecting. No, not really, though it sat languid in my racks for a number of years. I'd already moved on from my dashed expectations (“weren't you supposed to be atmospheric ambient-electro techno?”), but the fact remained The Observer is very much a product of its time, the oh-so fashionable minimal era that many got in on last decade, and promptly abandoned this decade. The whole middle portion of this album features plenty of functional, bumpin' tech-house rhythms with requisite “this are serious music” menacing tones and random sound-effect hooks that probably sounds cool while drooling on ketamine, but utterly forgotten about within an hour. Can't fault Mull's production chops though, as I'm sure any of these cuts would work in a modern set, provided DJs still play minimal tech-haus of this sort (kinda' doubt it).

That all said, the early and ending tracks have me kicking my ass that I didn’t give The Observer another chance until recently, as these are the sort of tunes I did expect out of Mull. Enter Your Moment is all kinds of dubby, trance bliss, while Klangfarben and Sunny Hills are the sort of Norman Feller styled tech-house I can get into. Following all the minimal drudgery, we’re treated to a brief bit of ambience that is Intermezzo Aqua. Then Mull gives us some downtempo ambient techno in Mirage, a solid loop-techno workout with Altitude, spacey electro-funk on Zero Point, and finishes with, erm, another forgettable tech-house cut. Oh well, almost an ace conclusion, but man, how did I forget about these in the first place? That initial impression must of really sucked balls.

More importantly, these bookend tracks don’t come off as dated as the other middle ones. Not that I really blame ol’ Joel for getting in on the minimal tech-house bandwagon, since everyone in techno had to if they wanted their records played by the cool, very important DJs of the time. I’m just glad he found room on his album to fit in some tunes of lasting substance. It makes returning to The Observer a welcome proposition, even if it’s for half a CD’s worth.